


Use Your Words

by thilesluna



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FAHC, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:45:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thilesluna/pseuds/thilesluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Jeremichael, things you said that made me feel like shit</p>
            </blockquote>





	Use Your Words

Jeremy can take a joke, he totally can. He’s 5′4″, he’s been taking jokes since he stopped growing in the 10th grade.

And joining the Fake AH Crew? They dish out insults with the same speed and ferocity that they dish out bullets. Jeremy has no expectation–or desire–that they would treat him any different. He’s got a similar sense of humor and he can give out just as much as he takes in.

But.

There are times–times when Jeremy is feeling more aware and maybe a little more sensitive–that it doesn’t just roll off his back. There are times when, in the heat of a heist or the somewhat less-than-friendly video game tournament, when someone says something and it fucking _hurts_.

Today, it’s Michael.

“JEREMY YOU FUCKING IDIOT! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Jeremy winces, grips the steering wheel tightly and swerves through traffic. The heist is going…sub par. Not great. Really fucking terrible. He’s got roughly half of the LSPD on his ass and exactly half the money in his backseat. He’s also got Michael screaming at him over the comm.

“Micoo–” Gavin tries, but Michael isn’t interested.

“NO. FUCK OFF. JEREMY YOU ASSHOLE. YOU SHORT-DICKED, COCKSUCKING FUCKER,” Michael screams. “What the FUCK! If you’re not going to follow the plan and do your fucking job _right,_ what fucking GOOD are you?”

Jeremy tries to tune him out. He knows, logically, that even though Michael is mad, he’s just being _Michael_ , but he can’t _not_  think about what the other man might be implying. That Jeremy _shouldn’t_  be here, in the crew. Michael is a hot head and he is almost always apologizing for things he says in the heat of the moment, but right now, all Jeremy can hear is the anger and the heat in Michael’s voice and he feels something inside him cracking.

Michael is still yelling and finally, Jeremy spits out a short, “I’m on the way to Hyrule. Lil J, out,” and barely hears Michael threatening him about going off comms before he wrenches his earbud from his ear and throws it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. He glances in the rearview long enough to see some of the police have pulled off. He hangs a hard left, his tires skidding on the loose dirt of the access road. He can lose the rest of the cops up here and be on his way to one of their safe houses, code-named “Hyrule”.

The thing is, he really likes Michael. They’re both these asshole New Englanders and they get along so well, mostly. Michael is sharp and funny but he has moments where Jeremy sees a kind of silly softness to him–like when he talks about his family or is laughing at a story Gavin is telling. In all honesty, Jeremy really _really_  likes Michael, which is probably what is making all of this worse.

He loses the cops, bangs a U-turn and heads toward the Vinewood sign, and the houses nestled around it in the hills.

—

Jeremy is very busy wallowing in his own self-pity and struggling to pull himself out of the very deep pit of hatred and general “feeling like shit” mood that Michael’s verbal lashing put him in when the door busts open and the hurricane that is Michael Jones hurtles in.

“What the hell, Jeremy?” he demands, standing in front of the couch where Jeremy is trying desperately to sink into the floor. He’s not sure if he can handle another round of this.

“The money is in the back room,” Jeremy offers. 

“I don’t fucking care about the money!” Michael yells. “Why the _fuck_  did you go off comms? I thought you got got.”

Jeremy shrugs, still avoiding eye-contact. “Sorry.”

“Not good enough,” Michael spits out. “Fucking look at me, asshole.”

Jeremy does look then. He’s surprised, because Michael doesn’t look as mad as he thought he would. He looks worried. Scared. “I didn’t–I was–you said–”

“Fuck what I said, Jeremy,” Michael interrupts. “I’m a fucking douche bag and you fucking know better than to listen to the bullshit that comes out of my mouth.” He crouches down in front of Jeremy, resting his hands on Jeremy’s knees.

“I got stupid,” Jeremy says. He ignores the heat of Michael’s palms on his legs and how good it feels. “I started to think–sometimes I worry that I’m not good enough.”

Michael raises an eyebrow. “Good enough for what? The crew?”

Jeremy swallows thickly. “Yeah. The crew but–that’s only part of it.”

“Good enough for what, Jeremy?” Michael asks again.

“For you, I guess,” he finally says. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. Or when I feel like I let you and the crew down. I don’t know–it’s hard to explain.”

Michael doesn’t say anything for almost a minute. When he does speak, that fondness, the soft set to his features is there. “Jeremy, I’m literally _always_  mad. I say shit I don’t mean and it’s a shitty thing to do, but you have never once _really_  let me down.” He moves and sits next to Jeremy on the couch. “In fact, I think of all of us in the crew, you might work the hardest.”

“Except for Lindsay,” Jeremy says.

Michael smiles. “True. But the point is, you’re _good_  J. Even when you fuck up, you find a way to fix it and I dig that.” He’s very close to Jeremy right now. If he wanted, he thinks he could close the gap between them and kiss Michael. He wishes he was brave enough.

Jeremy smiles back. “Sorry about the comms thing. I was having a freak out.”

“It’s okay, but please don’t ever fucking do that again,” Michael says with a laugh. “I will literally kill you myself.” He rests a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, right where his neck meets. It feels weirdly intimate. His voice goes soft. “I was really worried.”

“About me?” Jeremy asks.

“Yes, you moron,” Michael says. “You’re fucking clueless sometimes.” 

Jeremy honestly didn’t see the kiss coming but he’s sure as hell not complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> BACK WITH MORE JEREMICHAEL
> 
> find me on tumblr @scrob-lord


End file.
